


Starlight In Your Hand

by Arken_Stone1



Series: Flame Moon and Pure Starlight: The Kili and Tauriel Chronicles [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bead fic, Braid fic, F/M, Gen, Rune stones, Shipping and more shipping, Wizard's tale instead of fairy tale, old-fashioned romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2855879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arken_Stone1/pseuds/Arken_Stone1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a romantic Wizard's tale told by Tauriel to her daughter about a brave warrior, a handsome prince, a human with sweaty palms, true love and a little bit of starlight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starlight In Your Hand

Disclaimer: All the characters appearing in The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are copyrighted by Warner Brothers and the J.R.R. Tolkien estate. No infringement of these copyrights is intended and is not authorized by the copyright holder. I write this fan fiction only for love of the The Hobbit and not for profit.

 

"No, you cannot be her. She is far away, she is far, far away from me. She walks in starlight in another world. It was just a dream…. Do you think she could have loved me?” -Kili from "The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug" 

 

**********************

A little girl skipped over fallen logs, dodging hanging branches while a ginger-haired elf danced along the high branches while shooting targets hanging from various targets with her arrows and longbow. She looked to the child below her, with large green eyes and glossy black hair, dressed in the tailored flowing garments of the elves, every inch Tauriel’s daughter.

“Mama, I’m hungry,” Thraina peered upward at her mother with wide eyes. “Can we go home now? It’s almost elevensies and Aunt Bella made seed cakes this morning.”

“Thraina,” her mother leapt from a branch several feet above her, head over heals and landed softly in the pile of leaves beside her daughter. “It isn’t long until midday meal and I’ll not have you spoiling your appetite with too many snacks.”

“But, Mama, please?” Thraina wheedled, blinking those large green eyes, hoping that her mother might be a bit less strict today in their forestry lessons. It always worked on Papa.

“Well, I suppose that we can end things early for today,” Tauriel gently tussled the little girl’s wavy hair and flashed her a smile. “Today is Durin’s Day and it will be all right to celebrate a little more and study a little less.”

“Oh, Mama, thank you!” Two small arms wrapped tightly around Tauriel’s waist. She held her daughter tight to her, a gift of pure starlight from the heavens who so many thought impossible. None believed this child could or ever would exist and yet, here she was, laughing and skipping through the forest like a winged sprite. “Mama, would you tell me a story like the ones you tell about Mirkwood and the Battle of the Five Armies?”

“I will tell you something different, Thraina,” her mother gave her a smile, gently tapping her nose. “I will tell you the story of what sometimes happens in the sky at night.”

“Mama, my astronomy lesson isn’t until tonight with Papa,” she frowned. “Won’t you tell me a fairy tale or about Mirkwood or Gandalf, please, please, please?”

“This isn’t a lesson, pen-neth, but a wizard’s tale,” her mother said with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, as green and joyful as those of her daughter. “You might have even heard Gandalf tell this tale a time or two.”

“Will he be there tonight, Mama?” Thraina squealed with excitement, clapping her small hands with glee. “Will he tell stories and blow smoke rings and set off dragon fireworks and make fairy orbs float in the air? Will he? Will he, Mama?”

“He will there and, if you’re good, then you can stay up late with your elders and see all those wonderful things,” Tauriel said carefully. “But, you must be good.”

“I’m being good,” Thraina said with great seriousness. Then, a smile beamed across her face. “Can I still hear the wizard’s tale now?”

“You must listen very carefully,” Tauriel answered with great solemnity. “For this story is one only told to the very best hunters and warriors in Erebor. Do you think you can listen carefully?”

“Yes, Mama!” Thraina exclaimed. In mid-squeak, she suddenly sat beside her mother and folded her hands primly in her lap. “I am ready.”

“Yes, you may,” Tauriel dramatically cleared her throat, sitting down on a fallen log, patting the surface beside her for where she wanted Thraina to join her. “Now, sit and I will tell you a wizard’s tale that happened not so long ago.”

“Not so long ago,after King Thorin and the Company retook Erebor and Bard, the Mayor of Dale, killed the evil dragon, Smaug, with the great Wind Lance. There was a magic in all of Middle Earth stirring that touched the hearts of Elves, Dwarves and Humans. Be one rich or poor, tall or short, all felt goodwill flow as it touched all hearts with a new age of prosperity and peace.”

“It sounds lovely, Mama,” Thraina’s wistful sigh tugged at her mother’s heartstrings. “I wished that I could have been there to see it.”

“In a way, you were, my daughter,” Tauriel coughed, turning away from her daughter. A few breaths later, she turned back. “It was no different for an Elf no longer welcomed in the place she once called home. There were many who loved her, but without her fellow Elves, her mother and father, she felt quite lonely as many from Dale and Erebor showered her praise and treasure. She wanted none of those things, but to finally have a home of her own and to dance under the stars with the one she loved.”

“He sounds very handsome,” Thraina piped, sitting eagerly on the ledge of the log. “When I grow up, I want to fall in love with a handsome prince and lie happily ever after.”

“You can, pen-neth, but you should become a person of skill and integrity, using your mind and learning a trade. “ Tauriel’s voice sounded grave to her daughter’s ears.

”I will be the best warrior in Erebor,” Thraina promised. ”But, Mama, can‘t I have love, too?”

“Anything is possible.” Tauriel gave her daughter a hopeful smile. 

“Whom did she love, Mama?”

“A very handsome prince,” Tauriel brushed a stray black tendril from her daughter’s face. “With hair black as onyx and eyes like dark topaz. A roguish, reckless one was the prince and he made the Elf maiden’s heart skip whenever she saw him.”

“What was his name?”

“Patience, daughter,” Tauriel smiled at Thraina’s eagerness. “One day, the Elf was with the prince’s mother and she was training he young warrior the finer points of Dwarven manners while they were preparing to meet important guests at a great feast later that evening.”

“I like feasts. That’s when my cousins come and we can play!”

“Indeed,” Tauriel nodded. “She said to the Elf, ‘whenever you meet a Dwarrow who is your kin, straighten your back, bow deeply, say your name and ‘at your service.’”

“Mama, are all Dwarves stuffy and short?” If nothing else, Thraina had inherited her kin’s propensity for bluntness.

Tauriel let forth a laugh that lilted like tuned chimes made by Bofur that she had received from Thorin as a housewarming gift. “Sometimes, but, they have great love in their hearts for those whom they call kin, Thraina. It would’ve been very rude for the Elf to disregard the great lady and the lessons she sought to impart to the Elf. So, the Elf listened carefully to learn all she could to please her prince as he longed to please her.”

“I should listen now, shouldn’t I?” Thraina asked with great seriousness, as much as a young child could muster.

“If you want to hear more of the tale, then, yes.”

“Please, Mama, I want to hear more.”

“The great lady,” Tauriel continued. “told the Elf warrior, ‘while you may feel a bit out of place at the feast, remember that many of these people see you a great heroine for saving the life of the prince. For peace to continue, be as kind as you would have others be to you.’”

“Was she?” Thraina asked.

“Well, I think so.” Tauriel answered. “ The Elf maiden tried very hard to do what the great lady asked her to do. She practiced bowing and the phrasing until she had it down in her mind and did it perfectly. That night at the feast, a Man from Dale came to the feast. He was an ugly little man with pasty skin and a thick dark brow that looked as if he had glued a caterpillar to his forehead.”

Thraina giggled. “That’s silly, Mama.’

“So was the little man,” Tauriel said a little sadly. “One of the Dwarven diplomats of Dale introduced him. The little man stepped forward and bowed, then said, ‘Alfrid Lickspittle, at your service.’ Then, the Elf maiden gave a wary look to the great lady who was watching and because the Elf wish to please her beloved’s mother, she bowed as she had practiced and politely replied, ‘Tauriel of Erebor, at yours.”

“Oh, Mama! You’re the Elf Maiden?”

“As your Aunt Bella might say, ‘I’m not your friendly neighborhood Mirkwood Sprite.’”

“Aunt Bella says silly things sometimes, Mama,” Thraina said. “She can even make Uncle Thorin smile.”

“Yes, she can.” Tauriel agreed. “Alfrid grabbed my hand in his and it was quite wet with perspiration and kissed my hand, slobbering on it, I remember. He said to me, ‘On behalf of Dale, I present to you this humble gift, a small token of our affection for you and for Erebor.’ I must admit, Thraina, Alfrid Lickspittle reminded me more of a snake than a man. I found that I could say nothing, but only nod.’

“Is he a bad man, Mama?”

“He is a man who thinks only of himself,” Tauriel answered. “He had several men bring forth something covered by a tarp. They pulled it off, revealing a statue of him holding the Wind Lance in hand while the end of it stabbed a dragon deep in the chest.”

“Eww, gross!” Thraina scrunched her face as if she had swallowed a sour lemon, sticking out her tongue. 

“He said to me, ‘I would slay a thousand dragons for you for the rest of our days, Milady, if you would allow me to be your personal adviser for I am well-versed in the ways of Men.’ How I remember the entire hall of feasting Dwarves sudden stop singing, dancing and eating. Hundreds of eyes were upon us. I knew that Bard of Dale kept Alfrid around because he proved occasionally useful, but I didn’t know how to respond. I stared at the great lady and said the only phrase I knew in Khuzdul, ‘help me.’”

“Did she?” Thraina asked in a whisper as she scooted to the edge of the log, longing to hear more of the tale.

“She replied in Khuzdul, ‘you’re on your own.’”

Thraina giggled. “That sounds like Gamul Khagam.”

Panicked, I couldn’t think of anything to say. All I knew that he was drooling on my hand which he had never release. I cleared my throat and saw all eyes upon us. Remember, Thraina, words can be powerful things. Spoken wisely and you win hearts. Spoken in haste, words can bring down cities and start wars.”

“So, Mama,” Thraina pressed. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Master Lickspittle, I am humbled by your thoughtful gift and I thank you for your generosity, but I must respectfully decline your gracious proposal. I think that there are far more nobles in need your wisdom than I am.”

“‘I think you are one I find worthy of my talents and knowledge,’ he said proudly and he kissed my hand.”

“Did he slobber again, Mama?” Thraina covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Only a little,” a smile tugged at Tauriel’s lips. “After the feast, most returned from where they came. The Elven musicians packed away their lutes and flutes and the Dwarrows put away their harps and fiddles. Then, your Gami, Dis, had retired for the evening and I sat at a table, regathering my energy from an exhausting evening.”

“Mama, I thought this was going to be a wizard’s tale,” Thraina gave Tauriel a small frown.

“And it is, pen-neth,” Tauriel answered. “At that point, the great Wizard, Gandalf, came to sit by my side. He still makes me smile when I think of his long beard and tall, gray pointed hat. It is said that he is as old as Elrond himself or a little older. He pulled up a chair and sat beside me, pulling at his pipe and lighting it with a few sparks that came from the end of his fingers.”

“He can pull coins out of my ears,” Thraina offered. “and make butterflies come out of my hair.”

“He makes coins out of nothing, dear,” Tauriel said. “I said, ‘Good evening, Master Gandalf, it was a good feast.’ He said to me, ‘Tauriel, my dear, do you mean it was a good feast, or mean that it is a good feast whether it was or not, or do you feel good while feasting or that it was a feast where the food was good?”

“Mama, Gandalf says strange things,” Thraina pursed her small lips in contemplation. “Why does he do that?”

“Only Wizards know such things, Thraina,” Tauriel shrugged, slipping her longbow over her shoulder. I wished he had been there earlier in the evening when he could’ve turned Alfrid into a toad, but that wasn’t my luck. He looked at me and asked me why I was in in such a melancholy mood. I told him, ‘I wasn’t at all happy tonight because I couldn’t speak to my one friend remaining from Mirkwood, I had no chance to be with the man I love and Alfrid Lickspittle wanted to be my personal adviser.’”

“What did he say, Mama?”

“It was then he offered to turn that odious little man into a toad if I so wished it,” Tauriel tweaked her daughter’s nose. “I thought about it, but I declined Gandalf’s offer because it would have been an insult to toads everywhere.”

“So, what did Gandalf do next?” Thraina asked, watching her mother intently. 

“He asked me if I enjoyed the feast and I told I had, then he said I was a horrible liar and I told him he was right,” Tauriel’s heart warmed at the memory. “I told him that it was very kind of King Thorin to offer me asylum after his Uncle Thranduil banished me from Mirkwood.”

“But, Mama, Great Uncle Thranduil invited you and me to come stay for a season,” Thraina cocked her head, quite confused. “He even gave you that pretty mithril necklace with one of his favorite white gems and said that heirlooms must be kept in the family. Mama, what’s an heirloom?”

Tauriel’s brows rose in disbelief at how quickly Thranduil had changed his ways after she had become betrothed to one of the princes of Erebor. Thorin had returned most of the white gems stolen by his mother from Thranduil, returning them to him to promote peace and trade between their peoples. Balin had advised him well on that delicate matter and it had stroked the Elvenking’s ego enough for him to be more congenial toward Dwarves or, at least, the Line of Durin. Tauriel made a silent promise to tell Thraina about the tale of her great-grandmother, Dross Durin of Mirkwood another time. “It is something precious to someone that holds great meaning to someone, usually from another member of their family.”

“Starlight in your hand,” Thraina smiled. “It’s like that.”

“Yes, daughter, something like that,” Tauriel agreed. “Now, shall I continue the wizard’s tale?”

“Yes, please, Mama!” Thraina made no attempt to conceal her excitement.

“He told me that the greatest talisman I could have to ward off Afrid Lickspittle was standing behind me,” Tauriel rose from the log, offering her hand to the little maiden staring at her with twinkling green eyes. “When I turned around, I saw a reckless rogue who only came to my shoulder on a good day.”

“Papa!” Thraina beamed.

“Yes,” Tauriel agreed. “your father. I turned for a moment and the Wizard was gone. Your father looked at me and said, ‘if that human worm ever gets near you again, Gishavel, you and I can use him as a target during archery practice.”

“Whatever happened to the little man?”

“That I cannot say,” Tauriel began walking the ten league trek from the forest back to Erebor. “Your father blushed and took my hand in his, pressing something small and smooth into it. He closed my fingers around it and held my hand in his for a very long time. His hands were trembling as he held mine and he couldn’t look me in the eye.”

“Why, Mama?”

“Sometimes, when Dwarrows are near their One, it consumes them or perhaps, he was nervous. I looked at him because I didn’t know what to say and then opened my hand.” Tauriel reached into a small leather pouch hanging around her neck, drawing out a smooth oval stone that was clear like glass with bright streams of scarlet, blue and green.”

“Arkenite,” Thraina clapped her hands together. “It’s so pretty! May I hold it, Mama?”

“Yes, you may.” Tauriel put the precious stone in her daughter’s small hands. She pointed to the engraved symbols on the stone. “If you look here, you’ll see Khuzdul runes carved into it.”

Thraina’s dark brows furrowed in contemplation as she tried to read them, but couldn’t make out all the runes. “What does it say?”

“I’ll tell you in a moment, Thraina,” Tauriel promised. “He looked at me and I heard the slight stutter in his words. In his other hand, he held a small mithril bead. He said, ‘I’m no good at this, Tauriel, but I don’t want to spend a decade where you might find somebody better for you than me. I’ll never be a king and I’ll never be immortal, but I will love you all my days if you will have me.’ I had never seen your father so pale. He has fought Orcs and dragons, yet he trembled like a leaf in the wind. “

“What did you say, Mama?”

“I asked him to braid it into my hair,” Tauriel answered. “He swallowed the lump in his throat and I told him that I loved him.”

Thraina said nothing, but only listened.

“He sat me down in that great hall and he undid part of my braid, then refashioned it, putting that mithril bead right here.” Tauriel took hold of the long ginger braid that hung down her back to her waist. “He asked me to look at the stone while he braided my hair. I knew what the braid meant because he had explained the custom amongst his people.”

“Now will you tell me what the stone says?” Thraina asked.

“It says, ‘lananubukhs.’ In Khuzdul, that means-”

“It says ‘love,’ Mama.”

“Yes, Thraina, love.” Tauriel nodded. “The next time that Thranduil visited Erebor, he treated me differently because of that bead. Alfrid Lickspittle saw the bead and when Balin told him what it meant, he never bothered me again. That might have been due to the glare that your father gave him the next time they saw one another.”

“This is the same kind of stone that fell from the sky near Mirkwood and the same kind of stone as the Arkenstone and the same kind of stone that Gami Dis’s mama, Dross, stole from Thranduil-” Thraina said in a rush, quite proud of herself for recognizing a stone more precious than diamonds to Elves and Dwarrows alike. It was rare and beautiful -starlight in her hand.

“Yes, Thraina, very good,” Tauriel said as they made their way back to the Lonely Mountain. “You father and I married the next year and we are still living ever happily with no end in sight.”

“Will I meet my prince someday?” Thraina asked, returning the stone to her mother who quickly tucked it into the pouch around her neck.

“You will do with your life as you choose,” Tauriel said. “What did you learn today from the wizard’s tale?”

“Humans are ugly and have sweaty hands,” Thraina declared. “And that I’m glad I live in Erebor and not in Mirkwood.”

“Not. . .quite what I was expecting, but astute,” Tauriel shook her head in amazement. She wasn’t sure if Thraina was more like her or like Kili and it would be a pleasure to see what kind of person her daughter would become.

“Most of all, if you can hold Starlight in your hand, then anything is possible.” 

Two tears of a mother’s love fell from Tauriel’s cheeks, nodding at the truth coming from this young child and she agreed.

 

 

Sindarin Khuzdul

pen-neth means “little one” Gami means “Grandma”  
Gamul Khagam means “Grandmother”  
Ghivashel means “Treasure of all Treasures”  
Lananubukhs means “love”

**Author's Note:**

> This story makes references to Thorin's mother, Dross, whom I mention in a companion piece titled "Family Jewels." I found the references about Thranduil's coveted white gems so fascinating that they've their own place in the Tolkienverse.


End file.
